Unintentional
by puerta de las estrellas
Summary: He knew there was no way he could run off the guilt, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying.


**Warnings:** Sexual content, some angst

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate blah blah blah

**Note:** Thanks to all of you who have sent me encouraging messages and reviews on my two previous stories. You have all been so kind. And this story is dedicated to Wedjatqi-she is such an inspiration and I can only hope to some day be as prolific and eloquent as she is.

**Unintentional**

John thought he was going to be sick. He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees, trying to breathe deeply. He was panting from exertion and it was the farthest and fastest he'd ever jogged and he tried to be proud of that, but the thought of what he'd done rushed over him again and he pushed off from his knees, heading for another lap around the pier. He knew there was no way he could run off the guilt, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying.

As he showered off, he tried to focus on the day ahead instead of the massive, crushing guilt. This afternoon he was training the new batch of Marines with Lorne, and later he was supposed to help Rodney with some new piece of Ancient technology. Rodney could have tried out the tech himself but he preferred to let John, who was a natural with Ancient equipment, work the controls while he criticized and prodded. John didn't care; it was something that would keep him busy this evening.

His mind turned to this morning's upcoming meeting, and he couldn't imagine how he was going to get through it. The team was meeting with Woolsey to discuss future missions and he knew there was no way he could miss it. The thought of seeing Teyla made his stomach churn again, and he decided to skip breakfast. Teyla and Kanaan would be in the mess hall with Torren, and the thought of seeing them all together was enough to make him break into a sweat. He was too anxious to eat anything, anyway.

Walking into the briefing with his Colonel face firmly in place, John kept his eyes on Woolsey and sat down and got the meeting started. He fixed his gaze on the computer screen in front of him as the team discussed the list of potential missions, deciding which ones were warranted, which ones required a science team, and which ones deserved the attention of his team. He was on autopilot through the whole meeting, but he did manage once to look up and scan the faces of the team. He finally looked over at Teyla, and although she was staring fixedly at the screen in front of her, she seemed to feel his eyes upon her and glanced up at him. John slid his eyes away from her and tried to quell the pounding of his heart.

After it was finally over, he left the meeting, trying not to run. How was he ever going to go on missions with her again? He couldn't stand to be in the same room with her, much less out in the field, depending on each other. Once again he briefly considered moving her to another team, but dismissed the idea immediately. That would be punishing her for his own mistake. No, he had to suck it up and take his medicine, make this work no matter what. It was his own fault and he wasn't going to make anyone else pay for it.

He felt rather than heard her approaching behind him and resisted the urge to walk faster.

"Colonel." Teyla called to him and he stopped, not turning to look at her as she came alongside him, but she maneuvered in front of him and looked him full in the face. "May I speak to you in private?" Her face was calm and he envied her composure.

"Sure." What was there to say? He was a scumbag and he knew it.

"Perhaps we can move to the balcony?" She waited for him to move first.

Stifling a sigh, he headed toward the balcony, ignoring the dread that was filling him, telling himself again to just suck it up. The salty breeze off the water was bracing and he felt a little better, leaning his arms against the railing and closing his eyes. He heard the balcony doors hiss shut behind Teyla and she moved across the small space, settling to stand a few feet away from him, facing him.

"Do you not think we should discuss what happened last night?" she asked softly.

"Sure," he said again, knowing he should start the conversation but unable even to think how.

"I am sorry I had to rush out so quickly, but—" she began, and he cut her off sharply.

"Forget about it." He couldn't bear to hear the next part, about where she had gone. He turned finally to look at her, and her wary but soft expression made him feel even worse. She should be pissed at him; she should be furious and disdainful.

"Teyla," he began, his voice choked and tight, but the emotion was so close to the surface it was hard to control. He swallowed, then began again. "Teyla, I'm sorry about what happened last night. It should have never even started and I can only promise you that it will never happen again." It came out more vehemently than he'd intended, but it was all he could manage.

Then he turned and did the second worse thing he could imagine: walked away. He knew it was the cowardly thing to do, but it was slightly better than worst thing he could imagine: staying to hear her answer.

John stared at the ceiling, sleepless. He'd known this would happen—that's why he'd run like a maniac this morning and worked late with Rodney, trying to wear himself out so he could sleep. But just like last night, he lay wide-eyed and miserable, unable to stop thinking about what had happened between him and Teyla. It had been so visceral, so intense, that it was hard to think about anything else.

He turned on his side, closing his eyes and trying to shut out the images of her in the locker room with him, her blissful face and ecstatic cries. He went hard every time he thought about it, so he forced himself to think about what he had done wrong instead. That he was a home wrecker. His feelings for Teyla didn't matter; it didn't matter that he was in love with her, that he thought about her all the time, that he'd wanted her for his own for so long. She _wasn't_ his. And he had forgotten that for those few brief moments and it had brought everything crashing down around him.

Not only had he failed at his own marriage, he might have destroyed Teyla's as well. For all those years he'd avoided a romantic relationship with Teyla, afraid that he would mess it up, and now he'd even managed to mess up any semblance of friendship they might ever have.

John rolled out of bed the next morning feeling marginally better. He'd done a lot of thinking through the seemingly endless hours of the night, and he'd come to a decision. He was going to speak to Kanaan, after he talked to Teyla. It was pretty much the last thing he wanted to do, but he couldn't stand having wronged the one man he despised above all others. All right, maybe "despised" wasn't quite the word; when it came down to it, John was just insanely jealous. He needed to look Kanaan in the eye and own up to what he'd done. He was pretty sure Kanaan would want to kick his ass, and John would probably let him. Up to a point.

He knew Teyla would be eating lunch alone today and he headed for the mess hall, his stomach growling and he realized he was going to lose weight if he kept up the maniac runs and skipping meals, but there was no way he could sit down and eat with her right now. Just thinking about what had happened made him flush with shame. He remembered walking back to his room that night, sick with guilt. What had he done? He knew of course that it hadn't been just him, that she had responded to his touch. But he was the one who should have never reached for her, he was the one who should have stopped, he was the one that should have pulled away. But he hadn't. And he hated himself for what he had done.

He sat across from her and jumped right in. "I'd like to have a discussion with you later if possible." He didn't mean to sound so abrupt but he didn't know how to bother with niceties. He looked up to see a closed, icy expression on her face and it twisted his heart. He knew he'd ruined any hope of friendship with her in the future.

"That would be agreeable. When would you like to meet?" She was equally curt and he kind of liked it because he felt he deserved no better.

"1800 hours in the gym."

"Fine," she responded. He waited a bit for any more from her, but she went on stonily eating her breakfast.

"Thanks." He got up and walked away, hoping this afternoon he would have the courage for more than one-word-at-a-time conversation.

He headed to the gym early, hoping to gather his strength and calm down a little before Teyla got there. Pacing around, he wondered again at the situation he found himself in—48 hours ago he'd had no inkling that he was about to destroy everything he cared about. He didn't even know how it had happened. They'd come back from a mission all wired up. Fighting Wraith worshipers in close quarters had come to physical blows, and the fight had been difficult enough to get them sweating but easy enough to leave them with an adrenaline rush. The briefing afterward had been a blur of ramped-up reporting and laughter.

John had come into the locker room from the adjoining bathroom, barefoot and still running a towel through his hair, when he had spotted Teyla sitting on the bench in front of the lockers.

"Oh, John. I am sorry; I thought everyone had gone." But she had stayed where she was, bent over to remove her shoes. Teyla always lingered in the briefing room after a mission, filling out her report and then heading to the locker room after the guys had finished there.

John had walked across to his locker, grateful that he had put on his t-shirt and track pants before exiting the showers, watching as Teyla had stood to hang up her vest on the nearby rack and he tried not to stare at her backside. She had been wearing those tight pants with the fitted ankles that drove him crazy, but he looked away. He'd been attracted to her for so long, loved her for so long, that he'd gotten good at suppressing it. He had waited too long to make his own move, and after she had gotten with Kanaan, he'd tried to move on—tried really hard. But it hadn't worked and so he'd resigned himself to dedicating his efforts to making sure that no one knew the depth of his feelings for her.

He sat down to pull on his sneakers and she had sat down too, close enough to make his breath hitch in his chest.

"Crazy mission, huh?" he had commented to distract himself. He could still feel the adrenaline pounding through his body.

"Yes, it was quite exhilarating," she had smiled over at him. He had looked up at her and her smile had made him melt inside, the way it always did. He rarely looked her full in the face anymore, but he had then and that's what had gotten him into trouble. He had seen her expression and it was so open, so soft, and he had held her gaze a little longer than he should have. And he had thought he saw a trace of something in her eyes, a look of interest, and her lips had parted and he could have sworn she leaned incrementally closer to him. After that he wasn't really sure what had happened... the next thing he knew his mouth was on hers, his hands on her arms, and he was kissing her with his heart on his lips. And she had responded—kissed him back and then he was standing with her, turning her to push her against the lockers and he had kissed her so deeply that he had felt lightheaded. And she had wrapped her arms around him, pulling him even closer, pressing into him and responding in ways he'd always dreamed about.

After that things had degenerated quickly... his shirt was off and then so was hers; his hands were at her breasts and she had made the most amazing whimpers that sent an electric sensation straight to his groin. She had reached for his belt buckle and after that it was even more of a blur—her pants came off, then his, and then he was reaching for a condom in the pocket of the vests hanging next to him. It was everything he'd ever wanted and he had done all the things he had tried for years not to think about, put his tongue to her breast and his fingers inside her, and she had let him, urging him on with her own caresses and encouraging murmurs. When he slid inside her they had both gasped and he had buried his face in her neck and thrust into her, willing her to climax and then she had, stifling her moans on his shoulder and the sound of her had made him come too, grinding into her and it had been exquisite.

He had already dropped to one knee and was moving to put his mouth on her, because he would have done anything to keep her making those amazing noises, when their radios had crackled to life.

"Teyla, this is Amanda. Kanaan wanted me to let you know that he and Torren have arrived and will meet you at your quarters."

_Kanaan_.

He had truly forgotten the man's existence for those few minutes. The fact that Teyla wasn't really his had never crossed his mind... he had seen a response in her eyes and hadn't even hesitated. He had stood slowly, dazed, hearing Teyla respond into her radio and he had handed her her clothes, silent and stunned.

Then they had both dressed hurriedly, and she had said, "I am sorry, John, but I must go. I will see you later." He had nodded, shocked and cold with horror at what he had done, unable to look her in the eye.

Now Teyla strode into the gym, face as icy as it had been at breakfast. She wasted no time and said, "What would you like to discuss, John?" in a clipped tone, arms crossed defensively.

He wanted to face away from her, look out the window while he talked, but he forced himself to look her in the eye. "I'm really sorry that I walked out on you yesterday... it was pretty rude. I should've stayed and finished the conversation."

She merely nodded. This was going to be harder than he thought, and he realized she was really mad now, which oddly made him feel better. He was confused when she hadn't seemed angry yesterday, but you could never tell with women.

He plunged ahead. "I just wanted you to know that I'm going to speak to Kanaan about what happened."

She'd been staring at the floor but her head snapped up at his words. "It is none of Kanaan's business!" Her voice was full of scorn and he was stunned.

"None of his business! If you were my wife, I'd sure as hell make it my business if you had sex with another man," he growled. He was going to say "slept with," but they hadn't even been horizontal and there had certainly been no sleeping going on.

"Is that what you think? That I am his _wife_?" she shot back, emphasizing the last word as though it was ludicrous.

"Fine. Boyfriend or whatever." This wasn't going how he'd thought it would.

"John, he was never my husband. He is the man who fathered my child," she replied in a chilly tone.

"Well, that's information that would have been useful yesterday," he spoke through clenched teeth.

"Kanaan and I have not been together in that way for months. I ended our relationship shortly after we returned from Earth." She still sounded irritated but now he was even more so.

"Once again, information that would have been useful earlier!" John was roaring now, but he was really getting steamed. "How could you not tell me this?"

"Just as you are so forthcoming with details of _your_ personal life?" she snapped, frigid with sarcasm.

She had a point.

"What am I supposed to think with how cozy the two of you are with Torren in the mess hall and around the city? You seem pretty damn happy to be together." He lowered his voice but he was still pissed and he didn't care.

"You would have us behave otherwise for Torren?" She took a step towards him, infuriated by his response. "He is Torren's father and we still remain friends. Kanaan will always be a part of our lives."

She had him again. He was dumbfounded at this turn of events and was still trying to absorb the new information. It was just so unexpected and he was floundering.

Teyla was scowling at him. "I can assure you that I would not be intimate with one man while in a relationship with another."

"I wasn't blaming you, Teyla. What happened is clearly my own fault."

"And why do we not share the fault? Was I not enthusiastic enough to show that I was equally interested?" Her voice was low but the anger was still simmering under the surface.

"No, you were definitely enthusiastic," he conceded, furious at himself for blushing.

"I am sorry you are so disgusted by what happened between us, but—"

John cut her off. "Who said anything about being disgusted?" he said heatedly.

"You made your disdain clear on the balcony yesterday, John."

He was trying to catch up and feeling completely bewildered. "That wasn't disgust for you, Teyla. That was disgust with myself for allowing it to happen it all. I thought I had pulled you into cheating on your husband and was feeling like shit. But if you'd happened to mention that you weren't in a relationship with somebody else I might have reacted a little differently." He knew his voice was rising with anger at the end of every sentence, but he was frustrated to have been so oblivious. "This is just like when you were pregnant—you conceal things from me and then you're angry with me for being aggravated."

Teyla's shoulders slumped and she half-turned from him. "I wanted to tell you, John. But it never seemed like the right moment. And I was not sure it mattered to you."

John frowned at that. "Of course it mattered. And if I'd known you weren't with Kanaan, I would've said something to you."

She turned back to him. "Why did you not answer me on the radio later that night?" He could still see the hurt on her face and he cursed himself for being such an idiot.

"I took my radio off, Teyla. I thought the last thing you would want was to talk to me."

He watched the tears well up in her eyes and he could tell she was trying to keep her voice even. "I thought what you said on the balcony was your way of telling me that you were not interested in pursuing anything other than one night of indulgence."

"No, Teyla." A tide of hope was rising in him, and he took her by the hand and led her over to sit in the window seat, where she bent and rested her forearms on her knees, head down. He was beginning to realize how badly he'd messed this up—she had come to him on the balcony, eager for his reaction to their experience together, and he had blown her off completely. He sat next to her, reaching over to lay his hand on her back, rubbing small circles and trying to comfort her.

"I wasn't looking for just one night. I've had way too big a crush on you for too long to let it go at that." Now that he knew he had a chance with her, there was no way he was going to wait another minute to tell her how he felt. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but he wasn't quite ready to say the word and he figured that could come later.

She raised her face up to him, tears still gathered in the corners of her eyes, but smiling. "I have had a crush on you for a long time as well," she said, and he laughed, the word sounding strange from her lips, and he reached across to her far knee and pulled her legs sideways across his lap, supporting her with his arm around her waist. And then they kissed for the first time again, and this time it was slow and steady. The passion rose between them and Teyla pulled from his kiss and took a steadying breath.

"I do not think we should continue this here," she smiled at him, leaning her body into him and she felt just as good as he remembered. Better.

"What, you're not a fan of doing it in places where we might get caught?" He raised his eyebrows and grinned at her.

She grinned back at him, "No, you are going to take me to a bed and make love to me properly."

Her words sent a thrill through him and he followed her from the gym to her quarters, and they did make love, and it was slow and burning and it was as amazing as the first time, and just as before, he felt a rush of joy and exhilaration to finally hold her and feel her response, but this time it was not tainted by guilt. And he told her all the things he'd wanted to say the first time, how felt about her, and he showed her how much she meant to him, and afterwards as they lay in each other's arms he felt a surge of triumph. She was his.


End file.
